


Just A Business Card

by TryingToMystrade (TryingToScribble)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: teeny tiny drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:05:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9402827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToMystrade
Summary: Because Greg obviously found that card...





	

“Gregory, there is no need for the theatrics. It’s just a business card.”

“Theatrics?” Greg answered through his teeth. He was bent over the table and leaning in towards Mycroft on the other side. He opened a clenched fist and slammed his palm on the table. “I’m not being theatrical.” He looked up and found Mycroft’s eyes as they completed a rolling motion. His body was shaking, shoulders moving in time with the strangled noises coming out of his mouth. “This is fucking hilarious!”

Mycroft balked. He opened his mouth to reply but it hung there as he fought to find an argument. He snapped his jaw shut and scowled at Greg.

“It is not funny.”

“It is! It so is.”

The card was lay flat on the table between them and Mycroft made a move to pick it up when Greg snatched it from his grip and waved it a little in his face. “It’s so funny that it’s got my Mycie in a twist.” He said in a mocking sing-song voice, grinning widely as if he had just won the biggest prize in a fair.

Again, Mycroft frowned his protestations and sat up straighter. “I am not ‘in a twist’. The woman is detestable and there is no way I can decline her offer of ‘a drink’ without devastating at least two counties in the process.”

Greg just snorted. “Yeah, right! You just don’t know how to handle a _Lady_ asking you out.”

Greg walked around the table and took Mycroft’s hand. He tugged on it to pull the man closer and to standing. “Here.” He placed what Mycroft thought was the card back into his free hand before he took a closer look.

Upon closer inspection, it was actually a note written in Greg’s handwriting. When he had time to write it, Mycroft was baffled for now, but it cleared up most of his problems.

Greg winked and walked away.

Mycroft retrieved his mobile phone from his inside jacket pocket and started typing a message.

Greg shouted over his shoulder as he left the room.

“Just let her know I’m a beer man, yeah?”


End file.
